


Nice. Real nice.

by msdaphne



Category: Star Wars: Poe Dameron (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Pre-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdaphne/pseuds/msdaphne
Summary: "You think they're talking about us?"Poe didn't mean the people celebrating in the hangar. BB-8 knew who he meant.Between the wedding and Ivee's new incarnation, Poe finds himself musing on the important relationships in his life.Based onthis panelfromPoe Dameron#25, and some new ideas about the nature of Black One's on-board computer from the TLJ novel.





	Nice. Real nice.

* * *

 

"You think they're talking about us?"

Poe didn't mean the people celebrating in the hangar. BB-8 knew who he meant.

<"They'll have analyzed the engagement, first.">

"Mm-hm."

<"They may still be considering Lt. Pava's previous engagements.">

Poe sighed. "She's a good pilot, Bee. Objectively good."

<"I know.">

"It could happen to anyone. It's like rolling dice- eventually you'll get a string of fives, but that doesn't mean they're loaded."

<"I know. Ivee knows, too. The last thing she told her was that it wasn't her fault.">

"Really. Wow. That was... really thoughtful. I hope Jess believes her."

<"She can view the analysis with us.">

   _Us._

Meaning Bee, Ivee, and Black One. And Poe, of course. But he was the odd one out, there. The machines could communicate silently, sparks through wires and waves through air, something he wasn't a part of.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Not that it hadn't been true before, but-  Poe shook his head. No point speculating until they actually got up there.

"Looking forward to flying with her."

BB-8 made a happy sound.

<"Four of us. Like a squadron!">

Poe laughed out loud, even though he didn't feel particularly merry about it. But it had been a proper joke and deserved the feedback.

 

He wondered what it would be like for Ivee. Being offline when the plane was offline. Never being alone. Sometimes, when they were fully engaged, he felt like he was part of Black One himself. But he could walk away afterwards, under his own power, free to seek out privacy if he needed it.

She'd see through the plane's sensors, now; they'd share their memories. At some point, they might even begin to reallocate processing, if it was more efficient.

It was spooky. Like when he was a kid, and had lain awake in bed, wondering who he'd be if he'd been born somewhere else, or if there was any proof that his memories were real.

But there was also something magnificent about it. Like that moment during the ceremony, when Karé and Snap had stood, just glowing at one another. For a moment, it had felt like their comrades weren't there just to witness, but like... like all the love and care and just _knowing_ that they all shared became something palpable, something greater...

_The Force, doofus. You're talking about the Force._

Well, look at him, getting all philosophical, and he hadn't even had a drink yet. He picked up his glass of punch. He looked at it, and put it back down.

<"Drink your party beverage.">

"Ha. Since when do astromechs tell their pilots to drink?"

<"One, it's a party, and you are off-duty. Two, a modicum of disinhibition optimizes your responses.">

"I know, I know." They'd been through that sim test together, years ago.

<"Three, you should dance.">

"Isn't that the same as  _One, it's a party?_ "

<"You should dance with Major Breyd.">

Poe fought off a smirk. This whole thing with Ivee had gotten Bee a  _lot_ more interested in Poe's potential love life. And some utter  _traitor_ had put it in his shiny little dome that people sometimes hooked up at wedding receptions.

"I might."

<"He flirts with you."> Bee nudged up against his shoulder.

"I know."

<"You flirt with him, too. And he's not in your chain of command.">

"If he were, there wouldn't even be flirting."

<"You should do more than flirt.">

"Psh," he chuckled, putting his arm around Bee. "Thanks, buddy. But you know, there's flirting and then there's flirting."

<"???">

"Well, you know. Sometimes you flirt because you think someone's really special, but you don't know if they think you're special. So you don't want to put yourself out there too much."

Bee cooed in the affirmative. He knew about that, now.

"Or even if you're pretty sure, sometimes you wanna take it slow, enjoy that part."

Bee sounded dubious about that.

"But sometimes... sometimes people just flirt with each other because it feels good. It makes them feel fun and attractive, and it's good for their self-esteem. But they don't necessarily want to... you know."

<"I don't.">

Poe sighed.

"It's just- he is special. And a very good friend. But he's not the one, you know?"

<"I don't. You frequently say _you know_ when you can't explain things." >

"Yup," Poe agreed.

 

They sat and watched the party. Their friends, dancing and laughing.

"But I will dance with him, okay?"

<"Okay.">

BB-8 sounded sad.

"I'm sorry she can't be at the party."

<"It's irrational.">

"That's how feelings work, sometimes."

<"I miss looking at her.">

"Oh, oh, Bee. I know how that is. I'm sorry." He hugged his droid tighter. He did know how it was. He missed seeing the people he'd lost. He missed hugging them, and the sound of their voices. He talked to them in his head, sometimes. Hell, half the time he still expected L'ulo to be there.

He imagined sometimes that some other event had prompted them to defect, that Muran was here with them. Imagined his reactions, debriefed with him in his head. But of course, Muran would be a different person, now, if things had gone that way.

He subconsciously touched his mother's ring. She'd be so different now. Her voice would be older and deeper; he'd be bigger than her... the last time he'd been home, he'd said something about all the gray in his dad's hair. He'd meant it as friendly teasing, and realized as soon as he said it that it had been a mistake. He'd gotten so sad, even after all these years, and whispered _she would have been so beautiful with gray hair_.

 

_Wow, life of the party, you are._

He took a small sip of punch, and wrinkled his nose.

"You can go talk to her, if you want."

<"Not while you're sitting here moping.">

"I'm not moping."

<"Bullshit.">

"I'm not!" He gestured toward the party. "I'm really happy for them. I'm just, you know."

<"You're doing it again.">

He groaned. "I'm just wondering if I'll ever meet that someone, you know?"

<"Maybe on our next mission.">

"Ha ha, yeah. On whatever uncharted little dustball Lor asks me to meet him on."

Bee made a shrugging sound, something like _you never know_.

"True. I guess you never know when true love's gonna bite you in the ass, huh?"

<"I don't have an ass.">

Poe raised an eyebrow. Was Bee saying he _loved_ Ivee? They'd never really talked about that. In the abstract, sure. As a concept, as a _word_ with a hundred meanings. Sometimes he told Bee he loved him, and maybe it was true and maybe it wasn't. He wasn't sure. And sometimes Bee said _I love you too_ , but it was obviously just something he'd picked up as the right thing to say in response. At least, he was pretty sure it was.

Well, it wasn't something they were going to figure out tonight.

"Go ahead. I'll go dance; I promise. I'm just gonna sit here for a few minutes."

<"Promise?">

"I promise."

BB-8 paused before saying, <"You are very fun and very attractive. Major Breyd is always glad to see you.">

"Thanks for the pep talk, Bee." He smiled with genuine affection, genuine appreciation. "I'll see you later."

 

He watched Bee roll away with his dome tilted down a bit, like he was _thinking_. Well, of course he was thinking. He was always thinking.

Poe just wanted a few minutes without thinking. Just watching, feeling, breathing in the night air.

 

Once he got in there, he'd have a great time. He'd dance with Karé for most of a song, before Snap pulled him away, feigning both jealousy and ambiguity over whom he was jealous of. He'd dance with Ko, and it would be another kind of flirty: him expressing his admiration for her, as a brilliant and dedicated young officer, and she playing up the  _flirting_ kind of flirting, partly out of professional modesty and partly because she was still getting over the tiniest little crush on him. He'd dance with Sura, and knowing that neither of them wanted anything more would give them the freedom to be outrageously sexy; they were fantastic dance partners. Of course he'd dance with Breyd. It would be fun, and he'd feel good about himself. Maybe they'd even make out later; it wouldn't be the first time.

And maybe, if there was a slow number, and if the timing and the mood and the alignment of all the alcohol-lubricated little gears of a wedding reception lined up just right, he might even dance with Leia.

It wouldn't be a first for that, either. A couple of times before, at small celebrations, he'd asked her to dance. Polite, courtly, leaving plenty of room for the Force between them. Not flirting, exactly, but not _not_ flirting. Something ironic that papered over the tragedies that had brought them together. Something romantic in the historical sense, that painted a hazy blush of optimism over the war they would soon face together.

 

All of these threads, winding through and between and around them all, as invisible as the sparks and waves between the droids, knitting together into something bigger and more beautiful and more powerful. 

_You mean, the Force?_

Maybe. The Force was more than that, but this was part of it. It was made of every one of them, and it was more than all of them, and it was in each one of them.

 

He smiled at himself. He was definitely getting _way_ too philosophical. He stood up and walked over to the edge of the duracrete, and poured his warm punch out in the grass. 

As he walked toward the lights and music and happy faces in the open hangar, he touched the chain again.

_He's out there, Mom. I believe it._

 

* * *

 


End file.
